Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from India and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Barbara Tucker,
Erykah Badu,
Skarface,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonic Youth,
Zero Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Leonard Cohen,
Nirvana,
Lindisfarne,
Eden Ahbez,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Happenings,
DNA,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
AZ,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Cecil Taylor,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Malaria!,
The Gories,
Kenny Larkin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Womack,
Subhumans,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
June Days,
Alton Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
Ponytail,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aswad,
Eurythmics,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Raincoats,
The Busters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
ABBA,
Motorama,
Lou Christie,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.